Revelations Through Darkness
by lilsherlockian1975
Summary: Molly thinks no one has seen how sad she has been lately. Sherlock not only sees but he also observes but his observations lead him somewhere surprising. Oh the Sherlolly feels!


**A/N: So this one is very different from my other stories, it's very personal (to a point.) Anyhoo I hope you enjoy please feel free to review.**

**I own nothing except the mistakes I take full credit for those.**

Molly Hooper sat alone in her flat, drinking cheap red wine and watching a documentary on the making of concrete, it was Saturday night. Most single thirty-somethings would be out at a movie or a club or heaven forbid a DATE. But no... another Saturday night gone by the wayside. She tried hard not to focus on it too much, she had a job that she loved and frankly she was quite good at, she had published several articles in reputable medical journals, and she had friends, (well some friends) not a huge circle but it's not like she was a social outcast. However here she was watching the most boring thing on telly drinking the worst-tasting wine money could buy and trying to avoid feeling sorry for herself (to be honest it wasn't really working, maybe it would have if she had chosen something mildly entertaining to watch.)

The real problem wasn't her job or friends or her non-existent social life. Molly was depressed. Her dad called it the _walking blues,_ he had dealt with depression on and off her whole life so Molly was well aware of what was going on she just didn't want to admit it, that felt too much like giving up. She kept telling herself it would pass, she could deal with it, push past it, smile through it... pretend.

No one had really noticed anything was amiss, which in her current darkened state spoke volumes about the depth of her friendships. What surprised her the most was that Sherlock hadn't said a thing. This meant one of three things... either he had not noticed at all which meant she was even further off his radar than she thought (ouch,) he _had_ noticed but had no idea how to aid a friend when they were in an emotional crisis (which lets face it... he doesn't) or he noticed but frankly didn't care enough to help (or even make one of his world famous deductions.) None of these things offered Molly any form of comfort, but lately nothing really did. She preferred to be alone as much as possible. Crying...crying was a bit of fun, at least it was something, better than the near constant numbness she had been feeling for weeks now.

She finally drug herself to bed but a very unfortunate side effect to her sadness was insomnia. When her father was depressed he'd sleep for days at a time, too bad for Molly that it seemed to work differently for her. She laid in bed for hours desperate the slumber that eluded her. She'd usually drift off around 3 or 4 am, then her phone would wake her up at 6 for work. She'd force herself up and into the shower and off to work simply because it was the only thing that actually distracted her from her feelings (well a little.)

She didn't have to work tomorrow so it wouldn't matter what time she finally got to sleep, somehow that was comforting. When she got into her room she picked up her phone and noticed several text messages.

**I need toes-SH**

**7 to 10 toes actually-SH**

**Right forget... please-SH**

**So, you do not have any toes or are you just not sharing?-SH **(that one almost made her smile)

**Molly?-SH**

The last one was received about twenty minutes before she had gotten into her room. She decided if he couldn't care about her state of mind she couldn't care about his sudden need for toes. She plugged up her phone and got into bed.

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock at her door. She of course had no doubt as to who it was, no one else would be inconsiderate enough to come round someone's flat unannounced at 11:49 at night. She got up, if she didn't answer her door he'd just come in, she assumed he still had the key she'd given him after the Fall.

When she opened the door there stood Sherlock wearing his Bellstaff over his pj's and looking more than a little ruffled. _Wait a minute, Sherlock Holmes doesn't do ruffled._ She thought as he stormed past her.

"You're okay then?" He asked looking around the flat then back to her.

"Yes Sherlock, not running off to the morgue to fetch you toes on my day off isn't an indication that I'm in danger, I just felt like ignoring _you_ for a change." She said (emphasis on the you, not that she really meant to but she was annoyed and didn't want to deal with a demanding Sherlock right now.)

"No, but you don't usually ignore me completely and given your resent _state of mind_ I think I had cause to be... concerned." He replied almost stumbling over the last word.

Molly stood there a little dumbfounded. _So he did notice, hmmm_.

The truth was, of course Sherlock had noticed, but he was at a loss. When he first realized that Molly wasn't acting herself he tried to ignore it, she wasn't his problem. She wasn't a case. However the worse she got the more concerned he got, so concerned that it had become distracting (Sherlock didn't like being distracted.) He considered talking to John or Mary but if they hadn't noticed anything he wasn't sure Molly would appreciate him pointing it out. So he started researching, the internet was full of contradicting information. _Talk to them... don't talk to them let them come to you... stage an intervention_, all rubbish. Sherlock was still trying to figure out what to do, if anything. Again was it even his place? Surely Molly had closer friends to talk to if need be. He knew she had almost no family to speak of but he still he wasn't convinced that he was the correct person to help her with her problem. He had followed her, making sure there wasn't an abusive boyfriend or similar reason but even as he was doing it was fairly sure she was suffering some kind of depression. All his research, investigating and more than a few hours in his Mind Palace had rendered him useless at this point. Of course none of that mattered now because when Molly failed to answer his texts he decided there was at least a remote possibility that she could do herself harm and he had no choice but to check on her.

"There's nothing to be concerned about Sherlock, I just didn't feel like sending you a text back. I assumed being a genius and all you'd figure that out." Molly said making her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. "I'm fine and I'll get you some toes on Monday, you can go now." She even managed a false smile as she finished her water.

_There's the fake smile... I hate that smile_. "Okay Molly, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. I'd prefer the easy way but if you want to be difficult that's fine too. So let's have it, what's going on?"

Taking a deep breath Molly went through her options. _Well you wanted him to notice... Now lie, lie, lie._

"Sherlock I appreciate your concern but I'm fine. I don't know what you expected to find tonight but here I am, still Molly, still me. Just very tired so if you would be so kind as to let yourself out and don't forget to lock the door." With that she marched to her bedroom. _He'll never follow me to bed_.

She was wrong.

"Molly Hooper," He said striding up to her where she sat on the edge of her bed. "I've spent the last three weeks trying to A) figure out what's wrong with you then B) figure out if I can help. Most of the time deciding that I'm the last person in the world that should question someone's mental health but I'm here and I want to... be of assistance."

Once was a time that having Sherlock Holmes in her bedroom asking if he could help her would have been the answer to her prayers, but right now she just wanted this uncomfortable situation to be over.

"Okay, I'll admit I've been a little down lately, but it will pass." She said not making eye contact.

"Alright so why? Why are you a little down? Is it Tom?" He asked.

"Tom? That's months gone... no, I don't know. Don't you ever just feel sad sometimes? Never mind, you don't feel. Look if I promise to talk to someone will you leave and let me get some sleep?"

"I suppose that will do, though my research said I'm suppose to ask if you have any intentions toward self harm... so?"

"No Sherlock, I have no intention to kill myself tonight. Thank you for asking, I think. And thank you for coming all the way over here in you pajamas to check on me, I guess it was sweet."

"Have you spoken to any of your friends about how you are feeling?" He asked crouching down in front of her.

"Um, not really. Just waiting for it to pass and you are the only one who noticed anything. I'd rather not burden anyone with my problems, that includes you. My parents have been gone for years and I only have a few friends, I'm quite practiced at dealing with my issues all alone. Being on my own is not something that is new to me Sherlock, why do you think I chose to work with the dead? I'm very solitary. I like people well enough but I can handle myself just fine."

Sherlock studied the young woman in front of him. _Molly,_ always there for him, always patient and understanding. She had saved his life more than once and she didn't even know it. Is this really how she feels, that she has to go through life alone, dealing with her problems on her own? John had once said 'friends protect people' how had he not noticed that Molly had managed to isolate herself to this extent? _I always miss something... especially when it comes to Molly Hooper_.

"Right well, not this time. This time you have me." He said standing up.

"What do you mean?" Looking at him with bewilderment in her eyes.

"You once said to me that I can have you, this time you can have me... I'm may not be practiced at the art of shoulder crying but I'm the great Sherlock Holmes. How hard can it be? Might even turn out to be a nice skill to have in my arsenal." He sat down on the bed next to her, took her hand and said "What do you need?"

Molly looked up into Sherlock's eyes, she'd seen those eyes look stoic, indifferent, board, annoyed and once very vulnerable, but never had she seen them so sincere. It frankly broke her.

"I'm not going to cry in front of you Sherlock Holmes, you'll hate it and it will make us both very uncomfortable. Fair warning I'm about to start, so it's time to work on an exit strategy."

"I'm not leaving Molly, cry if you must but I'm not going anywhere." He said putting his arm around her back and pulling her into his chest.

Molly cried for twelve and a half minutes.

When she was all cried out Sherlock took her face in his hands wiping away some of her many tears and kissed her forehead. "Would you like me to stay, you haven't been sleeping, which I understand is unusual but not unheard of. It might help you to get some rest."

"You don't have to, but it might help." Sniffle " You're right, I can't sleep. I just lay here dreading morning. Maybe you could talk until I fall asleep, your voice is soothing for some reason.'" Sniffle " After that you can leave... if you like."

"I'd be happy to." He said with a smile.

Molly excused herself to the on-suite then came back and laid down, Sherlock laid down behind her and talked about his most recent case involving an ineffectual jewel thief, it was barely a 6. Molly was asleep before he got to his brilliant deduction. He followed shortly there after.

Sherlock woke up to the sound of his phone at 8am. He extracted himself as carefully as he could and made his way to the sitting room. It was a text from John telling him that little Ella was sick and he wouldn't be coming by today. Nothing too bad just normal reaction to her three month vaccinations. Frankly this was fine with Sherlock, he was still planing on giving his attention to Molly for the time being. She would most likely be fragile after last night's conversation.

He found the coffee and started it up. When Molly woke a half hour later she found Sherlock at her kitchen table on her laptop drinking from a Hello Kitty mug. She should have been embarrassed but mostly she was just so touched she couldn't help but smile... a real smile, it dawned on her how long it had been since she smiled like that. She didn't expect to find him here this morning but decided not to make a big deal out of it. She assumed as soon as she fell asleep that Sherlock had removed himself to find her laptop.

"You made coffee, now you are truly my hero." She said walking into the kitchen.

Sherlock smiled but kept his eyes on the computer. Without looking up he asked "Plans today Molly?"

"Not really, why?" She asked while adding creamer to her coffee.

"How would you feel about a drive in the country?"

Now of all the things Sherlock could have said to Molly this seemed the least likely. She stood a little gobsmacked and more than a little confused.

"A Sunday drive?" She asked.

"Sure, why not? I've arranged a car. It will be here in and hour and a half so I must go to Baker Street and acquire suitable clothing. Will you be ready?"

"Umm, sure. What if you get a case?"

"Even the worlds only consulting detective should take a day off every once in a while, don't you think? I'll see you at 10." He said as he kissed her forehead once again grabbed his coat and rushed out the door, leaving a very bewildered pathologist in his wake.

It didn't really take Sherlock long to formulate his plan, Molly didn't have a family. She had mentioned it last night so it must be something that was bothering her. He, of course, had a mother and father that doted on anyone within a twenty mile radius. Besides, the drive and country air alone might help. He had called his mother as soon as he had received the text from John. She was all too glad to help. He had been arranging a rental car when Molly came into the kitchen. He could have arranged a car with his brother but he didn't really want to involve the British government with this particular endeavor.

Molly spent the next ninety minutes showering, picking out clothes and speculating as to why Sherlock was being so helpful. _Was he really so upset about the toes that he'd go to this much trouble_? _Okay, this is a little much even for him_. _Maybe he does care_. In the end she decided to just go with it, it would be nice to get out and do something different for a change.

Both Sherlock and the car arrived at 10am, shocking. Since they were going for a Sunday drive Molly had decided to make some effort with her appearance, she wore a sundress with a light sweater and sandals. If Sherlock was going to all this trouble to make her feel better she should at least play along, who knows it may just work.

As they made their way to the car Sherlock said "Glad you dressed up, you look quite nice Molly. I've never seen that dress before, is it new?"

"No not new but I've never worn it, well that's not true I think I wore it once on a date with Tom. Thank you though. Um, you can drive?"

"Yes, why is that always so surprising? I also know seven different kinds of martial arts, speak nine languages and I make a perfect strawberry tart."

Molly giggled and said "You do not."

"Okay, so no tarts but if I wanted to I could, I'm sure." He said as he started the car it occurred to Sherlock just how much he missed the sound of Molly's laughter.

They had been driving for about fifteen minutes when Molly finally asked "Sherlock, you're taking me somewhere specific aren't you, this isn't just a random drive is it?"

"Ah, that's my girl." He said with a smile.

Molly chuckled "Are you taking me to a mental institution?"

"Oh no, much worse... my parents home."

"What?! Why?"

"For many reasons, but most of all I deduced it would do you some good. Don't you trust me Molly Hooper?"

Oh dear God, Sherlock's parents? What kind of people must have produced the Holmes brothers? She was suddenly terrified. She started breathing heavy and feeling a bit light headed.

"Molly are you having a panic attack?"

"..."

"Molly, I assure you my parents are nothing like Mycroft or myself. They are disgustingly delightful, they are doting and kind and... _loving_. I should be the one having a panic attack. Please calm down."

Molly's breathing evened out a bit. She looked over at Sherlock, who was visibly shaken. She had to try to get through this for him if not for herself, even though she was having a hard time believing that the Holmes were normal parents she would try to trust that this might help.

After she regained her composure they chatted a bit, Sherlock talked again about recent cases determining that it seemed to relax her last night, and it worked. She asked questions and even laughed when he told her about John taking a swing at him for leaving him trapped in a room full of Russian clowns (as it turns out John's not fond of clowns, nationality not withstanding.) He was again suddenly struck by the sound of Molly laughing. He felt something, he couldn't place it but it was new and pleasant, definitely different, but not unwelcome.

By the time they had arrived Molly's nerves had almost worked themselves back to full boil. As they parked and before they got out of the car Sherlock reached over and took Molly's hand. "Molly, please just relax. My mother is really looking forward to meeting you she can be a bit overwhelming at times, she fusses but she means well. My father on the other hand is a lot like you and I think if you give them a chance you will find them quite comforting. Trust me... please?"

Molly smiled a sweet genuine smile and nodded her head. Sherlock suddenly found himself looking at her smile, and thoroughly enjoying it.

Sherlock knocked on the front door and Molly took a deep breath.

"Sherlock Holmes!" His mother said as she opened the door and draped her arms around her youngest son.

"Hello Mummy." (causing Molly to giggle.) "This is Dr. Molly Hooper."

"Of course it is. Dr. Hooper, so lovely to finally meet you." Mummy said turning to hug Molly.

"Oh, so nice to meet you as well Mrs. Holmes."

"No, No that won't do... you'll call me Letha. How was the drive, lovely isn't it?"

"Oh yes, it was quite nice, and please call me Molly." She replied.

"Mummy, can we please get out of the foyer?"

"Dear where are my manners? Douglas! The kids are here!"

Sherlock put his hand on Molly's back and whispered in her ear "Sorry, like I said, overwhelming."

"Ah, there she is, the girl that got Sherlock to visit his parents. You get the prize my dear." Sherlock's father said taking Molly's hand and kissing it. Then giving Sherlock a hearty hug. "You must Dr. Hooper." Turning back to Molly.

"Molly." She said with a smile.

They made their way into the sitting room and started chatting. Letha was regaling Molly with stories about little Sherlock's academic awards and the like. While Douglas sat quietly and occasionally rolled his eyes reminding Molly all too much of Sherlock himself. Finally Mummy excused herself to prepare lunch leaving Molly alone with Sherlock and his father.

"So Molly, you're a pathologist. That sounds fascinating. What made you chose that field of study?" Douglas asked.

Molly thought for a moment before she answered. There was the answer she gave everyone else (I prefer the dead, then sardonic laughter) and the real answer, if she was here for some kind of catharsis she supposed she should just be truthful.

"Well, my mum died when I was nine. I was the one that found her. She had an aneurism, dad was at work and I found her in the kitchen, she was already gone, nothing to be done. I had been outside playing for at least an hour but I had just talked to her before going out and she was fine. I was so confused, how could someone be fine and then just gone? I think it left me with so many questions that once I reached medical school it seemed like an easy choice. Helping people get the answers they need to say goodbye. Not that even having the answers can help a nine year old, but it made sense to a grown up me."

When Molly had finished Sherlock was looking at her like she was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. He had already deduced that the death of her mother had influenced her choice of profession, but hearing the whole story from Molly herself somehow changed how he viewed his pathologist.

"That must have been very difficult for you to go through dear. I'm very sorry that you not only lost your mother but to have to have to face death at such a young age..." Douglas shook his head and took her hand. "Sometimes life's just not fair."

Molly looked up at Sherlock's dad, it had been so long since anyone had offered her any sympathy regarding her mother's death that she started crying before she realized what was happening.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me." She said while sobbing. Douglas was sitting on one side of her and Sherlock on the other. Douglas made to embrace Molly but Sherlock beat him to it, grabbing her and holding tight. She buried her face into his shoulder and cried for a few moments before pulling back.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry." She said trying to collect herself feeling mortified to have broken down not only in front of Sherlock but his father as well. "Might I use the washroom?"

Sherlock stood up and so did Molly, "Of course." He said as he sent her in the intended direction and came back to join his father.

"How long have you had feelings for her son?" His dad asked.

Sherlock was still staring in the direction he had sent Molly.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock..."

"I...I... Molly's a friend dad, I care for her and like I toll Mummy I'm worried. But to insinuate that I have any other feelings toward her... I, well I don't."

Douglas looked at his son with a funny smile "If you say so. Let's go see what you mother's making for lunch."

"I'd rather wait here for Molly if it's all the same to you. We'll join you shortly."

His dad wondered off laughing softly to himself, making Sherlock wonder what was so funny. As Sherlock waited for Molly he thought it might be a good time to drop into his mind palace and look into Molly's room. Her door was yellow the color of the dress she had worn to John and Mary's wedding, it use to be white like her lab coat (when had he changed it?) He opened it and found two paths, one led him to St. Barts the other to her flat. He stayed there for a while, trying to decide where he wanted to go. For years there was only one area in his mind for Molly Hooper, her flat had only been added after his fall when she had risked everything for himself and his friends. He decided to go to her flat on this trip, as he entered he looked around and found a photo of young Molly and her mother. Then he imagined a young girl finding her mother's lifeless body desperate to understand how she could be here one minute and gone the next. Sherlock stood there watching the scene unfold feeling something akin to pain pushing through his chest. He decided he didn't like that so he closed the image and turned around and found Molly's bookshelves filled with years and years of medical knowledge she had accumulated. Somehow that made him feel better. He stayed a while longer looking over her books, these books that brought her to him. They had brought her to the morgue at Saint Bartholomew's and into his life. Suddenly he was smiling.

When he opened his eyes Molly was sitting in a chair across from him drinking tea and watching him.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smiling while you were in you mind palace before. What were you thinking about?" She asked.

Sherlock looked at her, she had clearly freshened up her make up and was feeling better. "Deductions."

"Oh" She said looking down at her tea. "Again I'm sorry about before. I keep crying on you, maybe you should invest in a bib of some sort."

"I don't mind Molly, I told you I'd be here and I meant it, what ever you need. There is no need to keep apologizing."

Molly smiled and Sherlock again thought about how much he had missed it without even realizing it.

"Okay, time to eat and I mean eat, not drink tea and watch everyone else eat William Sherlock Scott Holmes." Mummy announced.

They sat down for a lovely lunch with pleasant conversation. Afterward the men excused themselves and Letha and Molly started cleaning up.

"You're a guest there's really no need to help." Mummy scolded.

"I don't mind, gives me something to do." Molly said picking up the plates.

"I do hope you don't mind me asking but Sherlock called us before your trip. He said you were having a hard time. Would you like to talk about anything?"

"Umm, well it's difficult to explain really." Molly said uncomfortably.

"Here sit down dear." Molly sat next to Letha. "I know we've only just met but I do feel like I've know you for years. Sherlock has told me all about you, so please feel free to talk to me like a friend or an old aunt. I know you lost your mum and I would never presume to replace her but I'm here so you might as well spill."

Molly frowned, "Sherlock has told you about me? Why on earth would he have done that?"

"Molly dear, you saved my son's life, and he's been talking about you long before that. You must know Sherlock doesn't have many friends so when he cares for someone, trusts them, it means a great deal to him. Surely you understand how he feels about you."

Molly stared at Letha, not really sure what to do with this information. Nothing new really except well, he cared for her all those years ago even when he treated her like she was just another tool at his disposal? Okay. _Gonna have to put a pin in that one._

"I've just been rather depressed lately. I keep thinking it will pass but it keeps getting worse and worse, it will pass soon enough I'm sure. Sherlock showed up last night when I didn't answer his text, I think he was worried. But I'm fine really, everyone gets sad from time to time, right?"

"Certainly. But is that all that's going on?"

"Yes. I think so. He's overreacting. Of course now that I've had two breakdowns in front of him I'm sure I'll never convince him of it." Molly said distractedly.

"Sherlock can be rather dramatic, but he clearly cares deeply for you Molly. He just wants whats best."

"Letha, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude and I know Sherlock does care in his own way. But we aren't that close, as a matter of fact the last two days have been completely out of character as far as our friendship is concerned."

"How do you mean?"

"How do I put this..." Molly started.

"Let me guess he's been an arsehole to you."

"Well I was going to attempt to be a bit more diplomatic, but in essence, yes."

"You forget I raised that child, I know exactly who he is. Unfortunately he never really learned how to express himself properly."

"Yes, he was less than kind to me in the beginning and since he came back he's been more or less indifferent, well except for the day we solved cases together, that was rather nice. I honestly never know what's going on with him, I stopped trying to understand him years ago."

Letha leaned in taking both of Molly's hands and said "Molly, please do me one favor... don't stop trying. Sherlock needs people like you and he needs you to never give up on him. I know he's difficult, God knows I do, but he's worth it."

"Oh, I know, I'd never really give up on him, not like that. I'll always be his friend. But you see for years I had this embarrassingly huge crush on your son. He turned me down and used it against me so many times, I finally decided I couldn't take it anymore. I still care but more I'm realistic now."

"So no grand babies from you then?"

Molly giggled, "Sorry, Sherlock's made it very clear to me that he's married to his work. I'm a part of it, but I can't compete."

"Well an old woman can dream can't she?" Looking at Molly then winking.

Molly smiled sadly and nodded.

"Let's get these dishes finished so we can join the boys shall we?"

As Sherlock and Molly waved their goodbyes, Mummy Holmes turned to her husband and said "They really have no idea do they?"

"None what so ever." Douglas replied.

"How could she not see that he's in love with her? Who brings a _friend_ to his parents house just because she's sad? Even Sherlock isn't that strange."

"He's just as bad Letha, but I have faith he'll get there. Just wait and in the mean time better find your mother's wedding rings."

Molly had been very quiet on the drive home, Sherlock was worrying that his plan had failed spectacularly, until finally she spoke.

"You were right, they're lovely and I had a wonderful time. Thank you Sherlock."

"Oh good, I was beginning to think I had made things worse."

"No, not at all. Although you should be more careful not to give your mother notions."

"Notions?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, if I hadn't set her straight I think she would have been knitting baby booties tonight."

"Baby booties? Not following."

"Of course, she was under the impression that I was your girl and we would some day be gracing her with grandchildren."

Sherlock's looked at Molly, Molly was looking ahead. As she was looking ahead she noticed they were drifting slightly off the road.

"Sherlock!" She yelled.

He looked back to the road and corrected, cleared his throat and tried to process what Molly just said.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry just drifted a bit there. Won't happen again."

A slightly uncomfortable silence followed (for Sherlock that is.) Molly must not have put together the near accident with her grandchildren comment because she fell asleep shortly there after.

This left Sherlock on his own to think. _Molly Hooper my girl?_ Sherlock started putting together all the data from the last twenty-four hours.

_Molly is a friend, a friend who needed me, so I helped her. But I like her laugh and smile. Okay, why do I like her laugh and smile? It's pleasant... her laugh is sweet and soft. Her smile is warm and beautiful. Beautiful? Yes, that's okay, it can be beautiful. When Molly is hurting it's upsetting to me, when I tried to picture her and her dead mother something inside of me hurt... can't ignore that. I want to console her when she's sad. I don't even mind being there when she's crying. And when I thought she might hurt herself I was terrified. So in conclusion... I... what? I... nope still confusing. What the hell is this feeling... urgh! Feelings... this is why I hate feelings... you can't deduce feelings accurately. I need more data_.

By the time Sherlock had concluded his frustrating deduction to nowhere they were pulling up in front of Molly's flat and he decided that the only way he was going to figure out how he felt about Molly was to spend more time with her. So he had a plan.

"Molly, Molly. We're home." He said gently shaking her.

"Oh, wow. That was a nice nap, I never sleep in a car. I must have been tired."

"Yes, well Mummy did force feed you more starch than the average adult should eat in a month."

Molly laughed again and again Sherlock warmed.

"So thanks again for last night and today. I really do feel better. I think I'm might just be on the bright side of this... what ever this is." She started to get out then turned and kissed Sherlock on the cheek then quickly got out of the car.

_That felt nice, really nice._ He thought.

She was making her way to her door when she heard a car door shut and she turned to see Sherlock behind her. "What are you doing?"

"The car rental company will be here tomorrow at 11am to pick up the car, I have to be here to sign the final bill and give them the keys. I thought I'd stay here, again."

"Why didn't you just have them pick it up from Baker Street?"

"I didn't think to give them a different address, so it stands to reason that they will come here."

"You could call them first thing and change the pick up."

Sherlock looked at Molly, _why do I assume she'll not catch on to me? She really is cleaver. _

"Could do, but why bother, it's late. You don't mind... do you?"

"Sherlock, I'm fine. If you think you still have to take care of me... don't, I'll be okay. I'm sure you didn't sleep last night and you must be tired. You really don't have to stay again."

_Ah, she doesn't know I slept in her room._ "So you don't want me to stay."

"Well it's not that I don't want you to..."

"Good, shall we." He said taking her keys and unlocking the door.

Once inside Molly made her way to her bedroom to change clothes while Sherlock made tea and worked on how to proceed. Whatever he did he couldn't confuse or hurt Molly, she was vulnerable right now and he knew he didn't want to make it worse just because he was suddenly having feelings of his own.

"Good news, I still have some of your things you left here after I killed you." She said chuckled walking into the room carrying a tee shirt and sleep pants.

Sherlock laughed, "And why did you keep these?"

"You never know when I might have to fake kill you again, could come in handy. Also I paid for those, and you never paid me back. I'm not one to through away money."

Molly was still laughing but Sherlock had stopped. " You did, didn't you? You bought me clothes and food and... hair dye and what else?"

"Oh Sherlock, I was only kidding. I didn't mind, it wasn't much."

"But I never paid you back Molly. Not even when I came back. Why didn't you say something?"

"Why on earth would I? And when would I? We didn't talk much after you came back."

"We spent a whole day together Molly, you could have said something then."

"Na, I was too excited to be solving crimes with the great Sherlock Holmes to worry about a pair of twenty quid sleep pants."

Sherlock suddenly had a very uncomfortable realization. A realization that hurt more than picturing Molly and her dead mother.

"Molly have I always taken you for granted?"

"I don't know Sherlock... Have you?"

"Am I the reason you're sad?"

Suddenly all the air was sucked out of the room. They just stared at each other. Molly couldn't look away and neither could Sherlock.

"Molly..."

"..."

"Molly, I'm so sorry. This is my fault isn't it?"

"..."

"Molly please say something."

Molly took a deep shuttering breath, she wanted to go but there was no where to run. She was sure it had nothing to do with him, absolutely positive. However now with him standing in front of her, she wasn't so sure anymore. For once she thought it was just chemicals and not Sherlock bloody Holmes making her cry herself to sleep at night.

Sherlock took three long strides and was on Molly before the first tears fell. He took her in his arms.

"Molly, I'm so sorry. I am. Please don't be sad anymore. Please?" He said as he held her.

She started sobbing. _No not again! Damn!_ Then she suddenly felt everything, everything she had evidently been pushing away and assuming was actual clinical depression.

"Why? Why am I the last person you think of? Why? You said I counted. But then I didn't. Sherlock, it hurts. I hate loving someone that can never love me back. Please make it stop. Please, please? I tried so hard and I thought it was gone. I really did. How did I not even know? What's wrong with me?" She cried and ranted as he held her and she cried some more.

At some point Sherlock picked her up and carried her to her bed. She was laying there still crying when he got in beside her and enclosed her in his arms.

"Shhh, it's okay. I won't take you for granted anymore. I promise. I'm so sorry Molly. Please stop crying, it hurts me when you cry. Please. I'm so sorry. I won't leave, I'm not leaving you. I'll do anything you want, anything you need. Please. I can't stand it."

Molly sniffled and turned to face him. "What? Sherlock, you're crying."

"No I'm not." Then he sniffled too.

She reached up and wiped a tear off his cheek. "Yes, you are. Look."

"Oh. I didn't know I could still do that." He said and they both laughed.

"Molly, this may be the absolute worst time to say this or maybe it's the perfect time... I'm rubbish at this having never done it before... but... I think I well, ummm... Molly I have feelings for you."

Molly started backing out of Sherlock's embrace but he held on tight.

"Sherlock, you can't make me feel better by lying to me, it doesn't work that way. I believe that you are trying to help but this will break me and there isn't much left to break. I know how you feel about sentiment and love and relationships so please don't _Janine_ me."

"Molly, I haven't cried, truly cried since I was eleven years old and I lost my dog. I was just reduced to tears because I realized how much I've hurt you... I'm not lying and as to Janine... please never compare our relationship to that deplorable thing I did. I understand how disgusting it was and could never subject you to something like that."

Molly was dumbfounded... and frankly speechless.

"Molly... you've gone mute again. Did I say something wrong?"

Taking a deep breath Molly said "No, Sherlock no you didn't. That was not wrong... did you say relationship?"

"Yes, I think that is the next logical step. I'll need you to be patient, this is new to me but if anyone can put up with me learning how to be in a relationship it's you Molly Hooper. Anyway I'm sure I can find plenty of research on the subject."

Molly giggled and Sherlock smiled.

"So, you're the expert... where do we start?"

"Um... well, we'd probably start with kissing but if you aren't comfo..."

Was all she got out before Sherlock's lips where on hers and he was pulling her tight into his chest. He tried to put everything he had into that kiss, it was I'm sorry and I promise and I'll be here, and I'll keep you safe. When it was over Molly put her head on Sherlock's chest and he talked until she fell asleep... shortly thereafter so did he.

**Thank you for reading!**


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